Sunflowers: the field of choice

Surrounding my home, covering the plains between Maussane les Alpilles and St. Martin de Crau, rolling away into the distance on the road from Arles to Tarascon, sunflowers. It is a tourist's paradise. They are at their peak. My renters were enchanted. Along the roads, cars with distant license plates stop to release the shutter-happy travelers, capturing this moment on film (or digital as the case may be).

And yes, I joined them, if only to share with my distant friends. It is rather spectacular, and even after years of this ferocious display of yellow, I am in awe of the majesty of these heads proudly following the arc of the sun.

If only they would stay this way. However, the sad truth, is they will stay in the fields, unharvested, till late this summer. The seeds are ready when the heads have shifted from this lovely bright tone to a dark brown, dried by the summer heat, bending over, called by gravity to face the earth. My August renters will have these in view from the pool. Ah well. All life must follow its course.